


mine to bruise

by cracktheglasses (cormallen)



Series: Short Prompt Fic! [11]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood, Classic Kylux, Dom/sub, Hux is Not Nice, Injury, M/M, hurt/dubious comfort, posessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/pseuds/cracktheglasses
Summary: 2017 tumblr prompt fic - Kylo with a busted lip for @youdidnotseeme





	mine to bruise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youdidnotseeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youdidnotseeme/gifts).



“Strip,” Hux says, herding him into the bathroom. The light bursts on, harsh white, the bulbs reflecting pitilessly in the mirror.

Kylo unbuttons his shirt, awkward, wooden fingers catching in the buttonholes, wrists tangling in the cuffs. He stares down at his belt buckle, as if confused to how it works open, before pulling on his zipper.

“Do you need me to do that for you?” Hux asks. His voice remains even, unfazed, his face its usual almost indifferent mask, and Kylo looks down again, at his undone belt hanging from the loops, at his bruised-up knuckles, the crust of blood smearing down his jeans.

“No.”

Talking hurts. The light is burning, making his retinas itch; he winces as he bends down to pull off his briefs.

“Look at yourself,” Hux says, stepping neatly around the mess of clothes. “No, not at me. Eyes on the mirror, Kylo. What do you see?”

He wants to argue; wants to tell Hux he knows what he looks like already, hair crusted with blood and his right eye beginning to swell up, the skin mottled purple down to his cheekbone. His lip, fat and oozing red, stinging against the press of his teeth.

“What do you see, Kylo?” Hux asks again, face looming stern above Kylo’s reflected shoulder; Kylo breathes in, loud and deep, through the ache in his ribs.

“Mistake. I see – I fucked up. M’sorry,” he apologizes quickly, before Hux has told him to. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, the taste of iron pricking through his gums.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Got into a fight. Wasn’t supposed to. Sorry,” Kylo slurs again; Hux reaches over to turn on the faucet.

“Knees, now,” he orders mercifully; Kylo sinks to the floor, kneecaps hitting tile, waits, grateful, for the next command.

“Face up. Now turn,” Hux says. Cool cloth swipes over Kylo’s face; Hux cups his chin as he dabs at the cut on his mouth, cleans the blood matted on his temple and above his brow.

The touch is light, careful over the worst of it; the soapy water stings. Hux works efficiently, practiced fingers tipping Kylo’s head this way and that, brushing his tangled hair away from his forehead.

“Up,” he says when finished, an arm hooking around Kylo’s middle, steadying him as he stands, cleaned, bandaged and tended to. Kylo can’t bring himself to meet his eyes.

“Kylo. Look at me,” Hux says quietly. “Look at me, precious.”

Soft lips press against Kylo’s forehead, down over his blackened eye, sweeping gently over his eyelid, to his bruised, tender cheek. Hux stops short of his mouth, pulling back.

“Tell me again: why are you sorry?”

“Wasn’t supposed to be fighting. I know. Hux, please. I won’t – “

It’s as far as he gets. He guesses, more than sees, Hux’s hand winding up, in the moment it connects with his mouth, a sharp, stabbing pain piercing through his lip as Hux grinds it into the edge of his teeth.

Kylo moans.

“You let someone else mark you up. Let someone else make you bleed. You should know better. This is mine to bruise, precious,” Hux says, leaning in close again. The brush of his lips against Kylo’s hurts enough that Kylo sways, braces a hand against the counter to stay upright.

Hux’s lips are wet and red as he breaks the kiss.

“Clean up your clothes, and come outside,” he orders. Kylo nods, blood from his split mouth dripping sluggishly down his chin.


End file.
